


A Delicate Dance

by Lemon_lady



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, First Order Politics (Star Wars), Gray Jedi Rey (Star Wars), Marriage of Convenience, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Uneasy Allies, Unresolved Romantic Tension, and all of them are about Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_lady/pseuds/Lemon_lady
Summary: They watch each other, a delicate dance that commenced with his first step out of that filthy cell on Ajan Kloss.Hux hadn't been able to stop himself from marveling at the stars. He’d let his composure slip long enough for Rey to study his face unguarded. He suspects she’s been trying to find another opportunity ever since.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rey
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	A Delicate Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a loose sequel to “A Shrewd, and Vicious Thing”
> 
> You don’t need to read the first fic in the series to understand what’s going on in this one but pop over if you like. I consider it one of my better works. <3

She looks ravishing in her evening gown. Hux had tailored it himself, Rey is a brilliant strategist but certainly not a woman who knows a lick about fashion. Her outfit is a testament to the opulence favored by the upper echelon of first order supporters. The dress features lace and silk in obsidian shades of excess. Rey’s tastefully cut neckline draws attention to the pendant that dangles between her breasts, an imperial crest designed to appeal to ancient attendees nostalgic for the Empire of their youth. The practice of sewing extra weapons into his garments was something of a staple to Hux’s early military career. He’s continued his tradition in Rey’s gown with a slit, neatly obscured by her sash, large enough to conceal an unlit saber. 

One can never be too careful.

Rey applies her makeup with a handheld mirror in the sitting room of their shared quarters. Hux watches from a nearby settee. He remembers her face during her interrogation aboard the Finalizer, tanned from her childhood on Jakku. 

Filthy. Furious. Living aboard the Prentioch has sucked the sun out of her, but not the passion. 

No dress could make him forget the muscle hidden underneath. The lipstick she’s applying, a deep shock of red against her skin is made from a rare corellian pomegranate. Hux wonders if he’ll get the opportunity to taste it tonight. He certainly hopes so.

“Are you nervous?” Rey perches on the armrest closest to him. 

“No.” He smirks, smoothing a crease in her skirt. “This coronation is only a formality.” 

“Because your regime now has the support of this system’s common people, in addition to the original First Order loyalists who invited you here, I'm inclined to agree.” 

“ _My_ regime?” Hux parrots, a hint of humor in his tone. 

“More or less.” She smiles softly. 

They both know it is decidedly _less_. Rey had released him from his confinement at the rebellion's headquarters as a ploy to domesticate the remaining first order factions. It was more than a tad depressing, how simple it had been. This sect was a shell of the First Order he’d helped build. The members were mainly second generation officers, brought up revering the orders goal to unite the galaxy, though not necessarily the ideology behind it. Hux was a symbol to them, a leader unmarred by the disaster on Exogel. His betrayal is public knowledge but they’ve used their hatred of Kylo Ren, widely seen as the cause of the Order’s destruction, to rationalize it.

Hux will be the one to sit on the throne. But tonight is the scavenger’s moment of triumph. 

He can’t bring himself to resent her for it. 

“Get dressed General.” She tells him flicking a hand toward his clothes. He unties his robe and lets it settle at his feet. He can feel her eyes lingering on his form as he buttons his shirt. They watch each other, a delicate dance that commenced with his first step out of that filthy cell on Ajan Kloss. Hux hadn't been able to stop himself from marveling at the stars. He’d let his composure slip long enough for her to study his face unguarded. He suspects she’s been trying to find another opportunity ever since. 

“You’ll have to find something else to call me something else after tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “May I suggest my name?” 

“Feisty tonight aren’t you Armitage?” Rey teases. She sidles up alongside him with his greatcoat. There’s a silver brooch attached to his collar, the Jedi Order’s insignia. This was Rey’s doing, a subtle reminder of the First Orders shifting policy towards force users. An adjustment is necessary when the new supreme leader's consort calls herself a Skywalker. 

Their marriage ceremony is to be broadcasted across the galaxy two weeks from now. Visual evidence of a merging of the representatives from two sides in what had seemed like a war without end. A comfortable life as the puppet of an intelligent woman is more than he should have hoped for. 

Rey is not a cruel mistress.

“How real will this marriage be?” Hux had asked her over a meal of honey cake and fine wine a few nights ago. 

“How real do you want it to be General?” She’d retorted calm as anything. He’d dropped the subject then. Her words had frightened him, because he couldn’t really give an answer. They had finished their food and retired. And as always the pair slept in the same bed. Only a few inches apart. 

“Shall we be off my dear?” He asks now. 

“We shall.” She grins hungrily.

His coronation is held in a replica of the Throne Room where Snoke held court, what seems like eons ago. The light comes from free floating lanterns overhead which bathe the faces of his supporters in a soft red glow as he gives a fiery speech intentionally reminiscent of his address before the destruction of the new republic. There’s a collective gasp when he is crowned, the mark of a genuine and sorely misplaced adoration. 

At the reception he steers her with a hand on her shoulder between groups of attendees. He steps into the role of an authoritative leader effortlessly. Rey charms admirals and newcomers and alike with lively conversation and leading questions. Sequestered in the shadows or stealing furtive glances from the buffet tables are envoys and reporters from outside the system, come to gauge the power of this new government. _Exactly_ as Rey had hoped. They will go back to their planets and ships, gossiping about Hux and his Jedi bride to be. One woman captures holo footage as they sway in the center of the dance floor, her lips pressed against his neck. 

“That will make headlines.” She whispers into his ear as the music swells. 

The revelry lasts far into the night, their surrounding company becoming more unhinged the more they take advantage of the open bar. They are escorted back to their quarters by a squadron of helmetless stormtroopers, another of Rey’s many reforms. He expects her to fling herself into bed fully dressed, she has the infuriating habit of going to bed with her makeup on. Instead Rey lingers in the hallway making small talk with the handsome trooper captain about recent working conditions and his personal opinion on cloning. Hux uses the fresher while he waits, something his captivity taught him never to take for granted. He is drinking a glass of whiskey when she enters. 

“Give me that.” She demands, her tone sharp. Strong drink is another habit of his adolescence. One Rey is intent on breaking. 

“You kept me waiting.” 

“Not an excuse.” Rey snatches the glass from him and sends it flying across the room and into the kitchen sink. “Stand up.” 

“Are you in a mood?” He pulls himself to his feet. “I thought tonight went well.” 

“Kiss me Armitage.” 

“If you insist.” 

He moves in tentatively one hand on the smalls of her back and the other cupping her face. They’ve kissed twice before, chastely and entirely for show. This is different. Her lips are soft underneath his, bitter from the pomegranate. She pulls herself against him moaning softly as he pushes his tongue inside her mouth. Rey stays still after she pulls away, her head against his chest. 

“Thank goodness.” She mumbles. 

“Hm?” Hux wonders, wiping her lipstick of his mouth with the back of a hand.

“I’ve spent the past few days worrying about the prospect of an empty marriage.” She laughs. “My mind is at ease now. You’re clearly attracted to me.” 

“And you to me.” Hux doesn’t phrase it as a question but she seems to know he would like her to respond as if it is one. 

“Yes. Though I try to avoid thinking about _why_.” 

“Clever girl.” He strokes her hair. 

“You didn’t answer the other night.” Rey huffs. “When I asked you what you wanted from a marriage.” 

“I didn’t know how.” He admits. “We find ourselves in a peculiar situation.”

“We’ve led peculiar lives.” She reminds him. 

Hux never had trouble sleeping. Still. He’s kept up that night picturing where a real romance with Rey could lead. None of these pictures predict a happy ending. There are no inches between them now. Rey is still against his chest. 

But she’s just as awake as he is. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!! :3


End file.
